Twenty Questions
by Colie88
Summary: What could possibly happen when two friends decide to play twenty questions? Odd answers and a serious conversation, that's what. Rated for some language.


In the quiet common room of Gryffindor, three friends sat together. One on the floor, the other two in chairs. Almost every other student had gone to bed. Suddenly, a loud sound was heard, exactly eleven times. Ron jumped and turned in a circle, trying to find the source of the noise that had distrubed the peace and his sleep.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Ron said.

Hermione looked at Ron in surprise. "You mean you've never noticed that clock before? It's called a cuckoo clock and it makes that sound every hour for that many times. At midnight, for example, it will chime twelve times," she explained.

At Ron's still shocked and confused expression, Harry told his friend, "It's a muggle clock. They use it to tell time."

"Yea, whatever. It's late anyway, and I for one am going to bed," he said grumpily standing and making his way to the boys' dorms.

Harry and Hermione watched their friend go, shaking their heads. They could hear him using some very colorful language on his way up the stairs. " Stupid muggle contraptions" and " I should bury the dman thing in the forest" were among the nicer expressions.

Harry threw his quill down onto his parchment and sank back into the cushion of his chair. "He's quite a character isn't he?"

Hermione, who was working on sorting her potions ingrdients nodded. "Yea, sure -Ouch!" she exclaimed as one of the viles accidently exploded leaving a nasty burn mark on her fingers. Harry jumped up and went over to her, examining the injury.

It felt warm to the touch, but it WAS burned, so that was to be expected.

"Maybe you should run this under some warm water?" Harry suggested.

Hermione looked from her finger into Harry's eyes. With a jolt, she realized that they were standing WAY to close. He was her FRIEND who was concerned about a small injury she had sustained. He was always protective of his friends and the people he cared about. Why should she be any different? Hermione knew it was hopeless to crush on the Boy-Who-Lived, but to her, he was just Harry. No fame, nothing. Just Harry. She backed away from him.

"I think it will be fine," she told him snatching her hand from his grasp. For one fleeting second, just as an American would think they see a bald eagle ( which are rare and hard to sight, according to a book on bird watching she had read), she thought she saw a look of hurt cross his face. The next second however, it was gone.

"I have an idea," Harry said after a few minutes of silence. "Let's play twenty questions."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow. "Alright. You go first,"

"What is your favorite color balloon?"

"A balloon? Harry..." at the look on his face she changed her sentance, "Orange, I guess," she finished. "What is the worst time of day for you?"

"Sunset. I think it's sad that the sun is, forced if you will, to give over to total darkness." Hermione knew it held more significgance than that. He was talking about the ongoing war. The sun represented the good side, the Order. Nighttime represented Voldemort's side. " When you think of rain, what does it remind you of?"

"Jumping in puddles after it finshed. What kind of music do you like?"

"I honestly don't have an answer to that...um.. the Weird Sister's music I guess," he said as Hermione giggled. "What is the oddest thing you have done at a beach?"

"Sunbathe naked." She smirked when Harry looked at her in shock. "It was in FRANCE, Harry. Do you like snakes?"

"The only snake I like is Voldemorts. And I would actually like to tear her head off," he said. "So no, I don't. What's your favorite quidditch team?"

"Gryffindor's. I don't follow professional sports. Favorite kind of cake?"

"Chocolate with vanilla icing. Ever win a blue ribbion for something?"

She blushed and nodded. "A science fair project when I was nine. What is your favorite muggle candy?"

"Milkyway. Favorite food?"

"Chicken. Most memorable time from when you were young?"

"Getting my Hogwarts letter. If you could play any instrument, what would it be?"

"Clarinet. I've just always liked those." she said. " What do you think of when I say 'pure' ?"

"Easy, Unicorn." He said remembering Hagrid's words to him in his first year. "Ever wanted to be part of a goblin rebellion Binns talks about in class?"

"God no! Those things are horribly bloody! "What term would you use to describe hospitals?"

"Whitewash. The walls are all the same color! It's too deary in them places!" Harry said. "Do you want to go to an Ivy league school after this?"

"Yes, Harvard. What is your favorite drink?"

"Pumpkin Juice. Does your dad have a tool shed?"

She gave Harry an odd look before answering. "What that has to do with this, I don't know, but yes, he does. Ever broken anything of your Aunt's?"

"Yep, a crystal vase. I was able to push it off on Dudley though, so I didn't get trapped in that awful cupboard. "What question number are we on again?"

"I forget. What is your favorite season?"

"Winter. I like snow. Favorite color?"

"Hey, you already asked that one! No repeats!" Hermione said pointing a finger at him.

"No, I asked about balloons... this one's different. Now answer," he said grinnging at her.

"Fine, pink. Do you think we'll have a ten year reunion like muggles do?"

"No. I hope so, but I highly doubt it." Suddenly Harry moved so he was on the floor next to her. "Last question." The look in his eyes made her heart break for him."What do you see when you look at me?"

It was a serious question. She tried to find her voice but all that came out was a squeak. She tried again and succeeded. "I see Harry. Someone with great skills and passion for life. A person with a trouble past and who doesn't like attention," she said quietly. "Now, you have to answer mine. What do you see when you look at me?" Hermione asked. She wasn't sure what made her do it, but she was suddenly filled with a desire to know what he thought.

He was quiet for a few moments, comtemplating on his answer. He opted for the truth. Finally she would know, no more hiding. "I see a beautiful woman who is supportive of her friends. A smart, caring and loving woman who doesn't care what others think of her, except her friends. Someone who is willing to sacrifice their life to help someone else out."

Tears filled her eyes. She had a rousing suspicion that her feelings were reciprocated from him. "Harry- what.. what does that mean?"

"I thought that was your last question?" he teased, trying to lighten the mood. She smiled but waited for his response. "IT means, Hermione, that I like you. Hell, I might even be in love with you. All I know for sure is that my feelings for you aren't platonic anymore."

Hermione was filled with happiness like never before as she leaned in and kissed his cheek. "And I feel the same. I like you too. However, I must be getting to bed. It is late...much later than when Ron went to bed." She gathered her things and made her way to bed.

Long after Hermione was sound asleep, Harry James Potter still sat in the same place she had left him, with a hand on his cheek and a big goofy grin on his features. As a matter of fact, that is how Ron found him the next morning on his way to breakfast as the cuckoo clock chimed seven times in the backround.


End file.
